Patches
by Malign Empyrean
Summary: You needed someone... anyone, you knew that. You did not, however, know just how much they needed you. (A bit of an experiment) The rating will rise come later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything of or relating to The Walking Dead. I am not making any money from this and I wouldn't even if I could. I also do not intend any copy right infringement.**

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_I feel as though there should be some context to this. I would like at some point for this to take on two different 'stories' much in the same sense of a Choose Your Own Adventure book, though there will be only two options and you just follow the chapters specified for the single choice you made._

_In other words, this is going to be a Reader and Rick paired fanfiction as well as a Reader and Daryl paired fanfiction._

_They are to be read as one or the other... not both._

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A scream bubbles from the back of your throat as your hands stiffly drop the revolver to the grass. You're eyes water as you look down at the body below you. This wasn't who you were—before all this you were a kind and gentle person, now you stood over a body swallowed by guilt and shame.

You drop to your knees as the scream finally releases and falls to a sob. As your mouth is stuck open, you bring her body into your arms. Hair matted with blood glues to your palm as you cradle her sweet, sweet head. She was your best friend. As you wipe her blood smeared cheek, you close your eyes and grit your teeth as another sob struggles to come out.

You two had been through it all; the running, the reanimated, the hardship, the survival. She was there when you were weak and she helped build you into the person you were today. You shake your head as her limp body lies over your legs. She protected you and you were unable to do the same for her. She was bit and you were scared—as much as you tried to keep her calm, inside, you were panicking and terrified for what would come when she took her final breath.

You didn't give her the chance to turn. It was an unspoken agreement; a silent promise.

You shake your head again as your hand mindlessly falls to your side. It feels the grip of the revolver and, suddenly, you believe you know the answers to your sorrow. Your hand brings the barrel of the gun to your temple and you look straight ahead as if you were above the situation. You were in pain; this offered release when there was nothing left.

Your mind races through the passing images over the last two years. You see the faces of your mother and father before they quickly turn into the things that have been hunting you. You see the face of your friend smiling and laughing even after the world had gone to shit. She was so strong… she was the one who pulled you out of these dark moments.

You rise from her body and take ten paces before stopping. Your hand shakes as your finger holds the trigger. Your eyes shut tightly.

_Click_!

Your heart sinks and you let out a holler of angst. There were no bullets left. You lower your head and drop your hand down to your side. There was no way out of this.

Suddenly, your head snaps in the direction a twig sounds in. Your eyes narrow; it didn't seem to matter how solemn a moment was, threat was enough to turn you into a completely different being even when it was all you sought was death.

Slowly, your shoulders relax as you take aim at the surrounding trees. The chamber may have been empty, but they didn't know that. You can't see your pursuer, but you know they are there. As you take in a deep breath and stifle a cry, a tall figure exits the woods. His eyes are the first thing you see; soft and blue—but hard and intense under his brow.

His hands rise slowly from his sides as he takes notice of the gun aimed his way. "We heard a scream," he says simply. "Thought it was one of our own," he adds as if you don't already feel lonely enough.

Your eyes break his as you look to the grass before pushing your hair out of your face.

"Are you okay?" he asks making you look back at him. He was a brave man; a body lied between you and him yet he had the nerve to stick around. Before you can open your mouth and give an answer you're unsure of, another figure comes out from the trees.

"Find anything—," the new face loses colour as his dark eyes look to you with the gun and then fall onto the body. "Holy sh—,"

"It's all right, Glenn," the man says with a half turn of his head. You feel your brow furrow as the two look back at you. "Listen, li'l lady," he says calmly, "we're both armed. Don't do anything rash."

You swing the revolver to your side and sigh. What did it matter if they were a threat? Everything you loved, everything you cared about—everything your friend represented—was gone. Your hand holsters the gun into your belt and your eyes lower to the grass.

"Go away," you murmur. Tears burn at your eyes as you keep them focused on the body's face. As much as it hurt to see her like this, you wanted to remember every detail—every dimple, every eyelash; you wanted her face branded into your memory.

Footsteps sound again but you care too little to look. "What's going on here?" a woman asks; her voice is soft and raspy, filled with urgency while still remaining calm, cool, and collected.

You can hear whispers between the three before a sound of disapproval followed by silence.

"Hey—," you lift your eyes from the face and look to the three strangers.

"I said go away," you say mundanely. You shake your head faintly, but you keep a watch on them.

"Where's your people?" Glenn asks after a few seconds.

You press your lips together and fight back the urge to cry. You nod you head to your friend's body. "She was all I had," you nearly whisper.

"Are there any others?" the first man asks, his baby blues looking to you and then towards the trees beyond as if searching for unseen people.

Quickly, you wipe away a tear before it can fall. "Just me…" you say. It was an effort to keep your pain in—an effort not to scream and cry before these stranger.

"How many walkers have you killed—,"

"Rick," the woman says as if to hush him.

The man raises his hand her way and shakes his head before looking back to you. "How many walkers have you killed?" he repeats.

You fight a frown and give a shrug. There were so many… too many.

"How many people have you killed?" Rick asks, his head nodding slowly.

You had only killed one; a man on the verge of turning. "One," you say effortlessly. Why did it matter?

"Why?" Rick asks, his brow rising with the final test.

"He begged me to do it," you say softly. "He held the gun to his head and just… he couldn't pull the trigger." It was harder to do it yourself; you understood why he asked you for help now. Your hand absentmindedly touches the grip of your revolver; that was the story behind your weapon.

Rick nods. He looks back at Glenn and the woman. Glenn gives a hesitant nod as the woman furrows her brow and gives a slow and stern shake of her head. Rick takes a step towards you and you watch as the woman grabs his forearm.

"Think about what you're doing," she says. "You don't know her… we don't know what she's capable of."

"Michonne, it's fine," Rick says with a half grin as if to pass on his ease to her. The woman releases him and he looks back to you. "What's your name?" he asks.

You furrow your brow. Names didn't matter anymore; you scarcely remembered the man's name… there was no point in memorizing a name when the people were gone before you could blink.

"Everyone has a name," Glenn says with a cheeky half smirk.

You push back your hair and sigh. "Names don't last…" You make a face. "_People_ don't last," you correct yourself.

"Anythin' we can call you?" Rick asks with a shrug. You merely stare back at him unwilling to disclose such information. Not only did you find it unnecessary, but you felt as though it were almost an invasion of privacy.

"Okay," Rick says, his eyes widening as he looks away from you. He takes a breath. "I don't know about you, but we've come to find that there's safety in numbers," he says. "It would probably be best if you came with us… less of a chance…" He furrows his brow and twists his head. "There's a better chance of survival," he says but you know that wasn't how he intended to end.

"What if I don't want to go?" you ask.

"You're too young to be on your own out here," he says trying to reason with you. "It's not safe for a woman to be alone," he adds. You give a faint nod. You knew just how dangerous it could be with _two_ women. Your friend had killed a man while he held you down pulling your pants around you ankles. The threat of rape was always present in the world, but, now, it was so much more prominent.

You watch as Glenn looks back at you from behind Rick. Your eyes turn to Michonne as she furrows her brow; she was the epitome of strength and she oozed it without saying a word. Between the three of these people, you can feel the power that radiates off their skin. It is intoxicating and far too tempting to reject Rick's invitation.

"Where is it?" you hear yourself ask. "Where's your camp?"

"Just follow us."

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**Like I said in the summary, this is an experiment. If there is a demand for this, I will update accordingly. **

**For now, however, this is simply an experiment.**

**Let me know what you think of it please.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything of or relating to The Walking Dead. I am not making any money from this and I wouldn't even if I could. I also do not intend any copy right infringement.**

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As you stagger down the hill, Glenn and Michonne walk ahead as Rick stays at your side. You stumble as your foot catches in a dip. Without hesitation, Rick stabilizes you, a smirk pulling at his lips as you look up at him from his chest.

You pull away quickly with your face reddening as he lets out a weak chuckle. "It's just a little further," he says before looking forward, ignoring the blush at your cheeks. You give a faint nod and continue onward. Things would be different with them… you hadn't been with a group since the very beginning—you barely remembered what it was like to meet people without the initial hostility needed to survive.

"What's it like?" you ask, your head tilting with the quiet question.

Rick's eyes look to you for a moment before shooting down and then back ahead. "Home…" he says. Suddenly, his head shakes. "As close to home as it gets," he admits. "Everyone kinda looks after themselves. Some are a little more reserved than others…" He pauses.  
"We've been through a lot together." His eyes look to the back of Michonne's head. "Don't take her words personally, at least… not just yet," he says with his voice low. "We've had our fair share of the bad. Michonne is just cautious."

"I would be too," you say making Rick's eyes look back to you. "My friend was open to bringing new people with us… sometimes it was a good idea… other times…" Your eyes lower and you shake your head. "Other times it seemed like the worst thing in the world." You shrug and look back to the tall man. "But, when a person has a bag full of food and you're starving, it doesn't really matter what kind of vibe you get from them… you don't think about what they're capable of."

"And what are _you_ capable of?" Rick asks with his brow inverted as his eyes lead the grass path you follow.

You press your lips together and shrug. Your brow furrows. "I don't want to know," you say making the man chuckle again.

"Yeah…" He nods. "Me neither," he says with a bit of a sigh. Rick turns his head and looks back down at you with a grin. "You're lucky you haven't been pushed to that point."

"Have you?" you ask.

Rick's eyes look forward and the grin slowly dissipates. "A few times," he says with his voice dropping. "Makes a man question his sanity."

"Sanity is lost," you say passively as if you had said it so many times the words had nearly lost their meaning.

Rick raises his brow. "Not completely," he says, his head twisting slightly.

You look ahead and watch as Michonne and Glenn speak to one another. A laugh sounds from Michonne and Glenn shakes his head with a smile. "How much further?" you ask as your tired feet drag. Over the last three days you have had less than eight hours of sleep and scarcely half a can of tuna; needless to say, you were more than exhausted.

Glenn turns his head back. "It's just past the gas station up ahead," he says making your eyes shoot to the back of his head. "You can't miss it… I mean, you _can_ if you don't know what to look for." You furrow your brow and Rick smirks.

"We've learnt from the past," he says. "If the place looks too clean or has a trace of someone inhabiting it, passersby take advantage of that." You nod.

Within fifteen minutes, you have passed the gas station and stand before a barbed wire fence. As the three look around as if to make sure the cost is clear, Rick pulls the second row of wire up as his foot stomps the lower wire down.

Glenn ducks between and then through to the other side first. Michonne's intense eyes watch you, waiting for your next move.

"Come on," Rick says, his chin dipping with the words. "We ain't got much daylight left and I'd rather be where it's safe than out here in the open." You look up at him for a moment before you lower to the ground. Rick turns his head to the side and watches the horizon until you are through. As you crawl to the other side, Glenn takes your hand and helps you to your feet.

You stand to the side as Michonne crawls under and then Glenn pulls the wire and stomps the other to allow Rick through. Michonne dusts her hands off before helping Rick up. As the man rises, he nods his head.

"The hard part's over now," he says and the other two scoff.

You stand for a moment before curiosity gets the better of you. "Are we going to a farm?" you ask slightly hoping the answer would be yes. A bed would be wonderful to sleep in—just having doors that locked would be nice, really.

"No, but the pasture is a bit of a shortcut," Glenn says. "It cuts the distance almost in half compared to the old route." Glenn's dark eyes watch you for a second before he shrugs. "Found it while Maggie and me were… uh… on a run," he adds as his hand rubs the back of his neck with a smirk. The other two shake their heads; Michonne rolls her eyes and Rick lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Who's Maggie?" you ask.

"His wife," Rick says. "You'll meet her along with the rest of the group when we get back." The group then starts moving again. You head south for a long while—at one point you start thinking you'll never see this group these people speak about.

As you stand before the other end of the barbed wire fence, you notice it's torn down—almost like someone drove over it. Had the fence been standing proper, this pasture could have made a nice place to stay for a couple nights with your friend.

"You got any questions?" Rick asks breaking you from your thoughts. You furrow your brow and shrug.

You notice Glenn and Michonne's silence as they wait for you to speak. You can feel the pressure—they're expecting you to ask things you are not concerned about.

"Are there a lot of you?" you ask though care is not in your words.

"A few," Rick says with a nod. He narrows his eyes as the orange glow of the lowering sun hits him. "Not enough to go to war with, but not so few we can't defend ourselves," he adds. You let out a short chuckle until Rick's eyes hit yours and you feel as though what you thought was a joke may not have been intended as such.

With your body bouncing to each of the steps of the uneven ground, you feel a shawl of self-consciousness curtain your skin. Already they were starting to get a taste of your awkwardness. Not even the end of the world could keep that trait of yours hidden.

"Where is it?" you ask as you look to the back of Glenn's head. He seemed like the only one who didn't cringe when you laughed.

He looks over his shoulder at you as he continues at the side of Michonne. "About ten minutes from here. It's just through these trees," he says with a nod of his head, his voice dropping slightly.

"The trees offer some coverage. It's far from any roads… not that it matters anymore. People don't care what path they follow now." Rick takes a breath.

You keep your eyes on the grass below. Your mind wanders back to the body you left in the grove. She was such a nice person—genuinely nice; the type of nice that would give you their shirt off their back if they could. It wasn't fair that she died… it should have been you.

You push back a whimper as Michonne steps into the trees. This wasn't how the world was supposed to be. You never anticipated being a part of the generation that would have to pioneer living through the walking dead. You thought you would live your life like everyone did before you; sure, it would be boring, but you would be happy. Now, it seemed everyday was a surprise—everyday left you cringing and wanting to scream. The only person that could pull you away from the cold dark feeling this world left you with was now gone. How were you to get by without her?

As you push a thin branch out of your way, you take a deep breath and raise your brow. The birds chirp happily overhead. That was something that seemed to thrive in this world; wildlife. Before all this, you had never even seen a deer in living flesh. Now, it seemed they wandered by without a care for predators. Horses ran by freely, every so often you would even see cows grazing the fields. It was surreal all the while being the most natural thing in the world.

Just as the three stop, you lift your head and are taken aback. Tents sit between the trees and bushes in a scattered order. There are two RVs that you're not sure how they ended up here; branches lay against the walls and keep them concealed from a distance. Clothes sit on a lining to dry, but, again, they're positioned in a way to keep hidden. For a moment, you think this is the most unreal thing in the world until you realize that this is what life had come down to.

"Where is everyone?" Michonne asks as she steps further into the makeshift camp.

"Carol told me she was gonna take Judy for a bit of a swim. I guess they all went," Rick says.

"It's too hot to just be sitting around here all day," Glenn adds as he continues on between the tents and trees.

"They wouldn't leave the camp without someone watching over," Michonne says quickly as she turns back to you and Rick.

Rick looks out to the tents for a moment before sighing. "Let's not panic just yet," he says quietly. "Caution might be the best way to go about this," he adds making Glenn turn back to him. "Check the RVs and tents… chances are whoever was left behind fell asleep," he announces. Rick then turns to you. "It might be best if you stay back until we find someone." You furrow your brow and try to take a step but he stops you. "How would you feel if you found a stranger rummaging through your camp?" he asks and you chew your lip. "Stay back until I say so; you hear me?" You give a curt nod after a moment.

As Rick marches into the camp, you take a deep breath and lower to the ground. If something was off in the campsite, you didn't want anyone to know you were there. "Glenn, why don't you go check if they're at the stream?" you hear Rick ask and soon, the young man is gone and only Michonne and Rick stay in your view—though not for long. Michonne steps into one of the RVs and Rick enters one of the many tents.

You're alone.

You feel a cold sweat bead on your back.

What if this was an ambush? What if they led you here because they wanted something you had?

You shift your weight and prepare to rise.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a gruff voice says lowly. Your heartbeat races in your chest; it is a familiar feeling. Fear came around so often now that you barely recognized it anymore. You turn your head to see a man standing above you. "Slow," he says.

As you turn your body to him, you feel the pulse in your ears throb. "How many of you are there?" he asks, his dark blue eyes narrowed as he looks over his crossbow at you. A bolt sits in place waiting for his finger to pull the trigger.

"Just me," you nearly whisper. There was no point in throwing the others under the bus. If this man wasn't a friendly of theirs, they could at least get away before it was too late.

"What you doin' just sittin' in the trees like this? Huh?" He jerks his body making you flinch. "Just decided to creep on our camp?" He circles you for a moment. "See somethin' you like?"

Your eyes fall to the ground as your hands rise up. "I'm just passing by—,"

"Just passin' by? Tell you what, sister, you look me in the eyes and say that to my face," he barks down. "I wasn't born yesterday—I know a liar when I see one," he adds before pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

Slowly, your eyes rise from the ground and look onto him. He was a country boy—none of that cowboy hat, gentlemanly charm about him. He was the type of country that drank out on the lawn and threw beer cans at cars. You take a deep breath. "What do you want me to say?" you ask. He's already convicted you; it didn't matter if you said the truth or made up an elaborate lie. You were an enemy—a threat.

He raises his chin and examines you under his furrowed brow. He lowers his crossbow and wipes the corners of his mouth. "You armed?" he asks. After a long second you shake your head. "Lookin' for food?" he asks. Again, you shake your head. "Then why are you here?" he rushes out as he readies his crossbow again.

You flinch and lower your head as your eyes shut tightly. "I don't know," you whisper. Your voice is all but there; merely airy whispers remain as fear courses through your veins like heroine.

"What's going on?" you hear a new voice call out.

"Found someone snoopin' around our camp!" he calls back.

"Just when you think it's going to be a boring old day, something _has_ to happen," the voice says in an exasperated sigh as it approaches. You see a new set of feet and once more raise your head. It is a woman. "What do we do with her?" she asks as her hands sit on her hips. She watches the man for a second as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Wait until Rick gets back," he says through the side of his mouth.

Suddenly, you raise your brow. "He's back," you say quickly. "Him—Glenn—," you see a glimmer of freedom at the end of this tunnel, "—and Michonne—,"

"Really—," the young woman sways as she looks around the camp. "Where are they?"

You lick your lips nervously but before you can answer, the man is talking.

"How do you know them?" he asks.

You furrow your brow. "Rick found me," you say simply. The man's face screws up and the woman scratches the back of her head. "He heard me scream," you say softly. "Asked if I wanted to join," you add.

"Why would he do that—,"

"Because she was alone—," you turn your head and see the devil himself marching towards you. "She was alone and had nothin'. I thought she could use the company," he says with his eyes narrowing.

He stands for a moment as the two watch him. "Why weren't you patrolling on opposite sides of each other?" he asks with his head tilting slightly as he looks to the man and then to the woman. "Michonne and I wouldn't have gotten past you guys had you been doing that."

"She was scared," the man says making the woman hit him in the shoulder.

"Was not," she cries out. Her eyes shift from Rick to the other man and then back. "I… thought I heard something in the trees." Shame makes the young woman's cheeks redden. "I asked if Daryl would check it out with me." Rick shakes his head but before he can say anything, the woman adds on, "We were just going back to our spots when he found her. I guess I heard you guys…"

"This makes things easier," Rick says with a bit of a nod. "This is Tara and Daryl," he says as Daryl narrows his eyes at you. Tara stretches a hand out to you and you take it as she smiles.

"Tara Chambler," she says with a nod.

"She doesn't have a name," Rick says passively as he turns away and heads back to the camp's centre.

"What do you mean?" Tara's chin draws back as she makes a face.

You keep your eyes forward as you follow Rick. "I have a name," you say but the words are ignored as Rick speaks again.

"Where's everyone else?" Rick asks as he turns his head over his shoulder. Michonne steps down from the RV's steps and watches with her strong eyes as the pack stops.

"Carol took Judy and Carl to the stream. Everyone else kinda wandered off once you left," Daryl says. "Sasha and Rosita wanted to go check out to the campground west of us and Abraham, Eugene, and Maggie went to check out the barn just east of the pasture. Everyone else is… doin' their own thing."

"I told Abraham to wait 'til I got back," Rick says as he turns fully towards Daryl.

"You know how Abraham gets," Tara says with a shrug. "There's no later only now," she adds.

"And you two just decided to stay back?" Michonne asks making Tara and Daryl turn her way. You watch for a moment; Tara's stance changes—as if she was a timid child, her chin lowers and eyes shyly watch Michonne—but Daryl keeps his same demeanour; he and Michonne were equals.

"I didn't want to go," Tara says. "Not my cup of tea," she adds.

Rick waits for Daryl's answer as you stand amongst the four as a silent observer. Daryl's hand rises and rubs the back of his neck as he draws in a deep breath. "I was waitin' for you to get back, man," he says

Rick taps Daryl's shoulder and gives a low nod. "Thank you for that. Nice to see someone listens to me around here," he says before turning to you. "This is our camp," he says and you nod. "There're two RVs and six tents. Every other night, we switch between them; that way everyone gets a chance to sleep on something that's _not_ the ground." You're eyes wander around the small woodsy area.

"Don't let looks deceive you," Tara says with a smirk. "That old rusted one has the best mattress." You give a faint nod as you look to the far RV. It looked like it hadn't worked in decades; the roof was rusted, the walls were so tarnished it looked like you could poke a hole through it like plastic wrap, and the hood of the RV was missing along with any and all mechanical parts. You take a deep breath and come back to the moment as Rick and Michonne talk amongst themselves.

"I doubt they would be headed back now," Michonne says with a sigh. "Abraham would want to find everything he could before leaving."

"Chances are if somethin' happened, they'd send Maggie back for help. They don't need us," Rick says with a shake of his head. "But it would be nice to see what's there… what could be useful…"

"Which is why we should go," Michonne says as she takes a step back and crosses her arms.

"What 'bout her?" Rick asks in whisper before nudging his head to you.

Michonne's dark eyes watch you for a moment. "Let someone else show her around."

"Who; Tara?" Rick smirks before shaking his head. "And I doubt Daryl would want to babysit her until we got back—,"

"It's not babysitting—,"

"No, but he'll see it that way." Rick looks back to you, Daryl, and Tara and you shoot your eyes away. No one else seemed concerned about what Michonne and Rick were talking about. Tara was far too consumed on telling Daryl exactly what she heard and why she wanted him to accompany her while Daryl merely rolled his eyes and lazily shook his head.

"Probably a squirrel," he finally says, cutting Tara off midsentence.

"It totally wasn't," she argues.

"Well, it was no walker," he says. "Walkers don't move that quick." Daryl narrows his eyes at you. "I bet even sour puss would agree," he says with a nod your way.

"_Sour puss_," you repeat and Tara smirks.

"Daryl—," the three of you turn your heads towards Rick as he comes back to join you. "We're gonna go to the barn. You think you could stick around and keep an eye on things?" he asks.

Daryl gives a small shrug. "Yeah," he says as he scratches the side of his face.

"Maybe give our new company a lay of the lands," Rick adds.

The man stands for a moment, his deep blue eyes studying you before they look back to Rick. "It's up to her, bro."

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**Next chapter will be a double upload and the 'choice' will need to be decided... just a little heads up!**


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